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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321764">Pussy(Cat)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrasBen/pseuds/TrasBen'>TrasBen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A little, Adult Themes, All Papyruses are Aro Ace, Aro Ace Papyrus, At least to me, But he's doing his best to be friendly, But they both love cats, Internalized Acephobia, Mentions of Interspecies Relationships, Mutt is kind of an asshole, Mutt is sex positive, Other, Stretch appriciates this, Stretch is neutral about sex, This Fic Is Funny I Swear, Tinder, lol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:00:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321764</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrasBen/pseuds/TrasBen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stretch is curious about the app Mutt uses to chat with humans.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Papyrus &amp; Papyrus (Undertale), Papyrus (Underswap) &amp; Papyrus (SwapFell)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pussy(Cat)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>The room is dark, blinds shut tightly with heavy curtains pulled over the windows to catch the miniscule light that might escape into Stretch's 'domain'. He's working.</p><p> </p><p>Which really means he's starting at his laptop's screen, brightness turned all the way up with headphones pressing too tightly against his skull as he goes over the lines he's already written a few more times, realizes he's backed himself into another corner with a certain line of dialogue <em>paragraphs</em> ago, and deletes a page worth of progress on his latest <em>work in progress</em>. It's not his day job, which is either unfortunate or extremely lucky depending on how you look at it.</p><p> </p><p>Stretch's real day job is at the local grocery store. It's is to talk to curious humans and occasionally stock the shelves if he can get around to it between all the kids who try to poke Stretch where his stomach <em>would</em> be if he'd had one and direct other humans to whatever aisle they're looking for. Sometimes he juggles the cans he's supposed to be putting away because, hey, he's a good showman like that. It's his <em>thing</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Too bad the manager doesn't really <em>get it</em>, which means keeping Stretch keeping his eye sockets firmly trained on the floor when he hears the familiar <em>click-clack</em> of her heals on the tile floors. He busies himself by fiddling around at whichever shelf he's gotten himself caught-out at. That, and avoiding the areas he knows are easily visible by security cameras.</p><p> </p><p>It's not a bad job. The pay's not great but Stretch only works part time and it's not hard if he uses his magic to help things along. His co-workers are nice enough and <em>they</em> even <em>enjoy</em> his juggling, at least.</p><p> </p><p>Plus, Stretch doesn't really need a lot of money on account of the fact that he's living with about seven housemates, give or take. Sometimes more come over to visit and other times some go on vacation.</p><p> </p><p>Stretch doesn't keep track of that sort of thing. He only keeps track of the constants, like his brother, Sans. He goes by Blue, now, though. There's another Sans - quite a few, actually. The classic gets to keep his name, but it's not a big deal. Stretch isn't <em>Stretch's</em> real name either, but that's not a <em>t</em><em>hing </em>for him.</p><p> </p><p>As far as names go, Stretch doesn't have it bad and Papyrus is a nice guy.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Click-Clack, Click-Clack</em>
</p><p> </p><p>There's no strict manager in Stretch's room. Only the sound of his bony phalanges against the keys of his laptop. Only the too-loud music of his writing playlist sounding through his too-tight headphones.</p><p> </p><p>It's only him in his room, rereading the last few paragraphs he's written, satisfied with the changes he's made -</p><p> </p><p>Until Stretch is assaulted by a burst of light coming from his doorway. He has a fraction of a second to shove his laptop off his legs and to toss the headphones off his skull before the door is shut again, and a hunched figure is saddling up right next to Stretch, shoving something fluffy and warm into his newly freed arms.</p><p> </p><p>Stretch blinks down at the fluffy face of none other than <em>Doomfanger</em>, Edge's cat.</p><p> </p><p>He kicks his laptop and headphones to the edge of his bed and strokes the top of her fuzzy little head. "hello, beautiful..." There's a surprised delight in his voice. Edge is so protective of her, he rarely lets anyone else lavish the cat with all the affection she deserves. It's cruel, really.</p><p> </p><p>A snort. The hunched figure turns out to be, unsurprisingly, Mutt. Another Papyrus. "you ain't looking too shabby yourself." He says, rolling onto his front next to Stretch. His hand soon joins one of Stretch's as he pats Doomfanger's furry tummy.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes lid in satisfaction and she shoves her head into Stretch's arm.</p><p> </p><p>"seems like we got a real mr. funnybones over here." Stretch relies dryly. "did you use those striking good looks to fenagle edge's cat away or was it your terrific humor that convinced him to let you borrow her?" To Stretch's immense satisfaction, Doomy snuggles up closer until she's lounging across his lap.</p><p> </p><p>"neither," Mutt admits, "i swiped her outta his room."</p><p> </p><p>"deadass? he's gonna kill you." Stretch tells Mutt. Not only for stealing Edge's precoius Doomy, but for entering arguably one of the most confrontational monsters in this house's room without explicit permission. Not that he ever gives anyone permission to go in there.</p><p> </p><p>Then again, Mutt hardly asks permission to do anything or go anywhere. He's got that free spirit vibe going on, in contrast to Stretch's own home-body preferences.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>(Maybe thats why Stretch likes books. He gets to write and read about all the exciting things people like Mutt might get into from a safe distance.</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>A distance where Stretch can step away if things get too-much. Like a thick, impenitrable window separating Stretch from real things, real experiences. Doesn't matter to Stretch because real things never were really </em>his<em> thing.)</em></p><p> </p><p>"he can try," Mutt hums.</p><p> </p><p>Stretch almost startles because five seconds of silence was enough for him to forget Mutt was there. Yikes. The dude's more like a cat than his nickname would suggest.</p><p> </p><p>Scare or no scare, Stretch lets Mutt's words settle between the two of them comfortably. Neither he or his edgy counterpart are extremely partial to wordplay. The occasional pun, sure, but <em>ribbing </em>each other is more of a Sans Thing.</p><p> </p><p>Red and Sans can go at it with sharp words and teases all they want, but that's just not how Stretch rolls. Mutt, either. They're quiet, albeit Mutt is arguably more social than Stretch will ever be, even when he's juggling. Mutt likes to put on a different sort of show.</p><p> </p><p>Doomy mewls plaintitvely and Stretch takes that as a sign that he's not being sweet enough on her. He mumbles out a half-apology and scratches the place right under her chin that she likes. He gets a smooth purr for his efforts. Win.</p><p> </p><p>Stretch and Mutt bask for a little longer in the silence of the dark room. Stretch keeps petting Doomy, while Mutt watches and occasionally reaches out to brush his phalanges through the soft fur of her fuzzy belly. Gorgeous animal. Edge is so cruel to deprive the other Papyruses of Doomy's sweet affections.</p><p> </p><p>All good things do come to an end, though, unfortunatly. And that end comes in the form  of Mutt's phone buzzing only about six times in a row. It disturbs Doomy, who's purr deepens to a pseudo-growl.</p><p> </p><p>"dude, check your phone." Stretch chides. Or, well, <em>tries</em> to chide because he's not really scolding Mutt at all. The words sound more like a statement, a suggestion.</p><p> </p><p>But Mutt takes his suggestion all the same. He digs through his hoodie pocket for his phone and unlocks it easily. He only offers a quick glance before rolling his eye lights.</p><p> </p><p>There's a grunt, and Mutt tosses the device over next to where Stretch had kicked his laptop.</p><p> </p><p>With only a small amount of curiosity, Stretch asks "who is it?"</p><p> </p><p>Mutt shrugs. A few seconds later he gets his answer. "some bitch. hookup." Mutt mentions casually. Casually enough to make Stretch flinch. At this, Doomy's decided she's had enough of Stretch being a negectful <em>human</em> and jumps off his lap to sit behind Stretch's heavy curtains. Shame.</p><p> </p><p>A flash of light invades the room as she makes her disappearance, but it's gone just like that.</p><p> </p><p>"rude." Stretch says, and this time he really <em>is</em> scolding Mutt. "your brother ever teach you to not be a raging asshole, maybe?"</p><p> </p><p>Mutt looks up to give Stretch an odd, squinty look. "why do you even give a damn, s'not like you're the one fucking her."</p><p> </p><p>Stretch looks away, because he knows that this is a delicate area of conversation to be in. Like he's driving on thin ice and if he makes a wrong move or pauses for too long Mutt will leap forward and plunge him into uncomfortable, icy water. "i dunno. just seems mean, i guess."</p><p> </p><p>Mutt clicks his teeth once. "it's just sex. it's what monsters <em>do</em>. you don't have to treat it like it's fucking sacred or something. we met once, fucked, and now she's the bitch blowing up my phone."</p><p> </p><p>Stretch doesn't want to hear this. "yeah, okay."</p><p> </p><p>Mutt knows it's not <em>okay</em>, but neither of them really want to talk about it. "whatever," he replies, "how's your book going or whatever?"</p><p> </p><p>They both cast a look towards the abandoned laptop. "fine, i guess. i'm at a boring part." He is, it's before the first murder of his murder mystery novel. He's still setting up the main characters, introducing irrelevent side characters.</p><p> </p><p>"hmm..." Mutt closes his eye sockets. "let me guess, it's abouttt..... two boring monsters who meet each other and fall in love at first sight, right? sounds like something you'd do."</p><p> </p><p>"stop." Stretch mutters. He can already tell where this is going, seems he wasn't careful enough earlier.</p><p> </p><p>Mutt snickers like he hadn't heard Stretch's weak protest at all. But he had. Stretch knows it. "that's your thing, right? writing about some royal-charming because you're afraid you'll never -"</p><p> </p><p>"if this is about your hook up, you can stop." Stretch interrupts. "contrary to popular belief, i <em>don't</em> actually care."</p><p> </p><p>"you so do." Mutt tells him, all matter of fact. "you really do. it doesn't matter, you know. it's fine that you can't <em>fall in love</em>, or whatever."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>don't</em>," Stretch corrects loudly. "i just <em>don't</em> fall in love. haven't." <em>yet. </em>Hasn't fallen in love <em>yet.</em> His teeth are gritted. Stars damnit, Mutt always does this.</p><p> </p><p>Mutt doesn't care if he never falls in love, and Stretch doesn't care if he dies a virgin. It's not a <em>thing </em>for them. Together, they almost make up a well-adjusted monster.</p><p> </p><p>Too bad Mutt's right. Stretch has never been in love, <em>can't</em>. He's tried. It's... it's just not a <em>thing. </em>That he can do.</p><p> </p><p>"sure." Mutt doesn't believe him. That's fine, Stretch wouldn't believe himself either.</p><p> </p><p>So what if Stretch is afraid that he's never going to be loved in a way that matters? Or that he's going to dust alone? Or whatever other dark thought his SOUL pushes at him in the middle of the night when he can't sleep that makes him sound like a sad sack?</p><p> </p><p>It's not somehing <em>Mutt</em> of all monsters should be trying to counsel him about, not when Mutt is busy chasing emotional intimacy through hookups with humans. Sure, he says it <em>feels good</em>, and Stretch isn't knocking that. Whatever, if he wants to have sex, he can. But Stretch has a feeling Mutt's hookups are a lot like the failed dates of Stretch's past.</p><p> </p><p>Looking for something, anything, that might make him take a second look. Might make him want something that he's never wanted before. He doesn't even know what feeling he's looking for. Stretch hadn't.</p><p> </p><p>Mutt's phone buzzes again over where it ended up.</p><p> </p><p>Stretch gives it a long stare. Mutt's always chatting up new humans, arranging hookups. Stretch himself had never met any of the people Mutt's talked to, nobody in the house has. They're all gone by the week's end, anyways.</p><p> </p><p>"what's that app you use?" Stretch hears himself ask.</p><p> </p><p>"the one for ordering pizza?" Mutt shoots back. He's picking at his golden tooth again, absent-mindedly. His eye lights aren't as brightly accusing as before. He's already moved past their 'argument', meanwhile Stretch will be thinking about it for the next month.</p><p> </p><p>"no," his voice is soft. "the one for talking to humans."</p><p> </p><p>Mutt honest-to-stars pauses. He gives Stretch another one of those squinty looks, the ones where he's either annoyed or trying to figure out if Stretch is being sarcastic. When he determines that Stretch is being for-real, he reaches over to grab back up his phone. "why'd you wanna know?"</p><p> </p><p>"what's it to you?" Stretch replies, just as cooly.</p><p> </p><p>"you've never cared before." Mutt points out, but he's already unlocked his phone and is scrolling for something.</p><p> </p><p>Stretch wonders what. "i want to see what it's about."</p><p> </p><p>That makes Mutt pause again, for the second time in a minute. Must be a record of some sort. "seriously? you wanna make an account?" His jaw is slightly open, like it's just so unbelievable that Stretch might want to at least test some options.</p><p> </p><p>But. It's not like Stretch has ever shown interest before. So, fair.</p><p> </p><p>"what's the app?" Stretch asks again.</p><p> </p><p>"tinder." Mutt answers quickly, "you will?" He passes his phone to Stretch. On the screen is some sort of profile - Stretch recognizes that rib cage. This is Mutt's profile, apparently. For tinder.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>you</em> care?"</p><p> </p><p>"i want to help." Mutt says simply. "let me see your phone." But he doesn't wait for Stretch to procure the device, instead rudely reaching into his hoodie pocket to swipe it. He completely ignores Stretch' half-assed protests. They're left with each other's phones.</p><p> </p><p>Supposedly, Stretch is supposed to familiarize himself with the app while Mutt messes around with his phone.</p><p> </p><p>After no more than a minute or so, Mutt is switching their phones back.</p><p> </p><p>"make a username." Mutt instructs.</p><p> </p><p>Stretch looks down at the little blinking cursor and his open keypad. The name, of course, comes naturally.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>king.honey</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"alright, what next?"</p><p> </p><p>"profile picture - you might need help with that one..." Mutt replies, almost eagerly. Stretch can't help the small smile on his skull. But, he's got this one figured out already.</p><p> </p><p>"nah, i got it."</p><p> </p><p>He picks out the last photo on his camera roll - a picturesque little bottle of honey from Muffet's. The lighting hits the transluscent contents of the bottle perfectly. There's nothing better than Muffet's honey. "done," Stretch says, pleased.</p><p> </p><p>"it's asking for personal information." He tells Mutt next.</p><p> </p><p>Mutt waves his hand around, "just fill it out, tell me when you get to your bio."</p><p> </p><p>Stretch fills out the necessary information. Lies a bit, since his full name isn't really <em>Stretch Skeleton</em>, but who cares? Puts down his phone number even though he's not sure why they'd need it, don't you just chat on the app?</p><p> </p><p>"alrighty, bio time." Stretch says. Mutt swiftly swipes the phone away from Stretch again and looks over the information he's inputted already.</p><p> </p><p>A heavy snort leaves him. "king honey?" Mutt really shouldn't be surprised. He'd have named himself honey in this universe if some of the others hadn't refused to call him by it, which is a shame. Stretch always thought it was a <em>sweet</em> name, heh.</p><p> </p><p>Nevertheless, Stretch bats his eye sockets when Mutt looks up, "you called?"</p><p> </p><p>"dude," Mutt genuinley laughs this time, "you can't have your profile picture as a bottle of honey."</p><p> </p><p>"sure i can." Stretch insists.</p><p> </p><p>Mutt points out, none too gently, "nobody's gonna want to fuck a bottle of honey."</p><p> </p><p>"woah woah woah," Stretch utters, suddenly uncomfortable, "... who said anything about fucking? i'm just a neat guy trying to make some nifty human friends."</p><p> </p><p>"should i put that in your bio?" It's obviously a jibe, but Stretch takes it in stride.</p><p> </p><p>"sure, don't forget that i can juggle." He replies easily. It's obviously one of his best qualities. Humans love anyone that can juggle.</p><p> </p><p>"got it," Mutt says jokingly, "good with your hands. the humans'll love that."</p><p> </p><p>"it's more in the wrists, actually." Stretch corrects.</p><p> </p><p>Mutt makes a little wheeze. "even better."</p><p> </p><p>Not even another minute passes before Mutt puts the 'finishing touches' on Stretch's profile. "i need another picture of you." He tells Stretch.</p><p> </p><p>"you're not getting rid of my honey pic, are you?" Stretch asks.</p><p> </p><p>"no, you can keep that. it's funny. just need something so people know who they're chatting with. you don't have to."</p><p> </p><p>"yeah, okay." Stretch confirms. Mutt nods and scrolls through Stretch's gallery.</p><p> </p><p>He picks a photo and flashes it at Stretch, "this one good?"</p><p> </p><p>It's of Stretch and Blue at a lake, from about a month ago. Stretch has a short of half-smile on his face, but Blue is the real star of the photo, per usual. It's a good picture.</p><p> </p><p>"yupper dupper" Stretch says.</p><p> </p><p>"cool, lemme crop it."</p><p> </p><p>Confusion flits lightly through Stretch's head. "crop?"</p><p> </p><p>"yeah, gotta make sure they can't see blue." Mutt explains like it's obvious. Stretch frowns.</p><p> </p><p>"why?" It's a good picture, but without Blue it's only mediocre. When Stretch looks closer, he can see that he's got rings under his eye sockets and his teeth are kind of yellow.</p><p> </p><p>"the humans won't know which one you are, or they'll think you're trying to set up a threesome with your bro."</p><p> </p><p>"eugh." Stretch makes a noise of displeasure. Yeah, no thanks. He'd rather not think about doing that sort of thing with his older bro, as dashing as he is. "crop it."</p><p> </p><p>Mutt does so quickly, confirms the account, and tosses the phone back to him. "voila, acess to any type of human within a hundred mile radius. you can change who you wanna see in settings."</p><p> </p><p>"thank you, good sir." Stretch thanks with an exaggerated voice.</p><p> </p><p>"no prob, send me screenshots of weird messages. i'm building a collection." Mutt shrugs.</p><p> </p><p>Stretch sends him an odd look, "what in asgore's name would you need them for?"</p><p> </p><p>"memes, mostly. but if i get a dick pic, i like to photoshop it with a mouth and teeth."</p><p> </p><p>"that's fucking horrifying." Stretch tells Mutt truthfully. He tries to image what a picture like that would entail, and he finds himself once again astounded by Mutt in an entirley new way.</p><p> </p><p>"yeah, none of the humans seem to get a kick out of it either." Mutt doesn't sound too surprised, and it's easy to guess why.</p><p> </p><p>"..."</p><p> </p><p>"deal." Stretch says finally.</p><p> </p><p>"shake on it." Mutt dares, and Stretch does. Then, when Mutt finally leaves ten minutes later, Doomy bolts out of the door before him and Stretch is alone again.</p><p> </p><p>The room is still dark, and Stretch doesn't mind that he's never fallen in love. He's doing pretty okay, he thinks. He's got a brother, some good friends, and a tinder account, now.</p><p> </p><p>Plus, he can juggle. And anyone who can juggle must be doing <em>something</em> right.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im in love with these two boys being disasters, thanks.</p><p>also there might be typos, i wrote this on my phone and its night!! but if u enjoyed please leave a comment r smth.</p><p>stay safe!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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